


It's Free Real Estate

by jubilantscribbler



Category: Little Nightmares (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Listen this is how I cope I'm sorry, No betas we die like we're watching the ending for the first time, The Transmission Decides to be an Annoying Advertisement, crackfic sorta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 18:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30059472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jubilantscribbler/pseuds/jubilantscribbler
Summary: Every entity needs a host, and each chooses their hosts with different means.  For the Transmission, it goes about the route of using and reusing the same host as much as possible.  How it gets its host is another thing - luring them over tends to work, but only if it can manage to snag onto their deepest desires.If only it knew the proper wording to use lure its prey over.Perhaps it should reconsider the fact that children of this era don't know what "real estate" actually means.
Relationships: Mono & The Signal Tower (Little Nightmares), The Thin Man & The Signal Tower
Comments: 7
Kudos: 51





	It's Free Real Estate

**Author's Note:**

> My thought process for this was, "Hey what if the Transmission was just blasting a _It's Free Real Estate_ -esque message at Mono, but like every other sane kid, he fucking HATES ads?"

There’s something the Transmission and the Maw had in common - they both needed hosts to keep them running. Their forms had to be enticing, promising a homestead to house their hosts until the end of their allotted time. Granted, the Maw was much better at preparing itself for its incoming host - it actually provided rooms, kitchens, space to thrive and grow in order to have their host fully accept them.

The Transmission was… less adequate at providing. It focused more on luring and trapping their host, like a rat drawn to a suspended bit of cheese only to find - surprise! They were stuck in a perpetual spinning wheel that they must keep running. And run they shall, until the end of their allotted time. The Maw found this method particularly wasteful, but the Transmission didn’t care. It made itself into the shape of a tower to broadcast its power over the city, as opposed to the oddly shaped ship the Maw found itself as. While the Maw allowed its host to be drawn in with the promise of comfort and sanctuary and _power_ , the Transmission offered nothing more than a forceful grab of attention that wouldn’t end until its needs were met.

Still. They both needed to toss their lures into the proverbial waters, so to speak (though less so for the Maw).

The Maw tosses out flyers, posters bragging of the comforts it has to offer. Food - endless food! Food just for you, just come here! This offer is meant for you, just for you! Silent as it is, the words catch and grab at the attention of certain passersby, and it catches either prey or host. Mostly prey, of course, but nothing goes to waste in the Maw.

The Transmission is… less subtle.

“Psst, hey.” Its broadcast rings loud and clear, and the boy with the paper bag flinches at the sound. “C’mere, we’ve got a message for you. Aren’t you tired of running? Don’t you want a place to rest your little feet on something comfortable?”

The boy groans, his hands covering his ears as he hunches over in pain. “Leave me alone…”

A small girl follows after the boy, also hunched in pain, but noticeably less so than the boy. No matter, the message wasn’t meant for the girl. The Transmission makes itself louder as it forces the boy closer.

“A home! Finally, someplace that truly welcomes you. It’s got so many rooms to explore, of course. No rugs or furniture, unfortunately, but! It’s perfect for a growing boy like yourself. No other deals come like this to anyone else - it’s even, dare we say, free!”

“What does that even mean,” the child mumbles, but he’s trudging closer to the screen and- yes, yes! He’s touching it now, tuning its transmission as if to quiet the loud message it blares. It allows him to twist and turn the broadcast, the enticing hallway straightening enough to make use of the boy’s powers and soon enough, he phases through the screen and lands in the hallway. But of course, the current occupant is being a little troublemaker and making it difficult for the child to progress forward. He moves at a frustratingly slow pace as the current host manipulates the space around him to keep him from reaching the door. 

And just before the boy even makes it to the door, that girl yanks him out of the screen and the broadcast comes to an abrupt end. No matter. The Transmission’s walls tremble in frustration, but no matter. There are plenty of televisions it can manipulate. Its current host lets out a dry chuckle at the Transmission’s failure. How annoying. This was why the Transmission needed to replace him with the younger host.

This old one was starting to get on its nerves.

* * *

It can sense when the boy is close to an idle screen. Pretty simple, really - his power is strong, brimming under the surface as he tries desperately to keep it under control and hidden away. But it won’t let that happen, no no. The Transmission _needs_ his powers - a source of energy, a tool it can control, a middleman it can exploit to strengthen and manipulate its broadcast to each and every Viewer - and the boy just didn’t seem to understand the potential he held.

The television switches on as it blasts its broadcast straight at the boy, making him hunch over in pain as the sound of an untuned transmission audibly pains the boy as it shouts its message loud and clear.

“A free home! We’re practically giving it to you! You can customize it, optimize it to your own personal tastes! Look, you got the key right there to open up the door to your new home!” 

The boy looks down to where he normally stashes his keys, but there’s nothing there. Instead, the television procures a static-like key that slowly twists and turns on the screen for the boy to reach in and grab.

“No adults, no monsters, no nightmares - just a nice, free home for you to stay in! There’s even a space in the back for a friend to stay!”

The boy perks up at this, eyes trailing over to the girl as she once again hesitantly follows the boy towards the television. She’s wary of the Transmission, of how the boy approaches the television. No matter; it almost has the boy in its grips. He leans forward and presses a hand against the screen and tunes the Transmission. It lets him do as he pleases, the key disappearing to allow the hallway to reappear. 

The child tunes and tunes and tunes, this time taking a little longer than usual. A bit of irritation trickles through the Transmission. Of course - that old battery it owns is meddling again. That won’t do.

It’s only a little bit of meddling, after all. The hallway straightens with a little nudge from the Transmission, and the child falls into the space with little fanfare. Again, it tugs at his being, tickling his curiosity as he tries to run towards that door that hides the older tool. But the child runs slowly, as if he’s stuck in a dream as he struggles to make any headway in the hallway. The meddling old man continues to stall, warping the space around the child to slow him down. And just like last time, the little girl manages to pull its prize out of the screen once more.

It howls in rage as it is foiled once more. The man laughs from where he sits, sneering as the once stone walls turn to flesh, and the Flesh Walls begin to converge on him for his punishment. 

Allowing him to keep his free will was such a foolish idea, after all. Of all the iterations it had to deal with, this one was the most stubborn. He remains stockstill as the walls press against him, head held high as he stares up at the ceiling.

“Even after all this time, we still make a good team, huh, Six?”

The man doesn’t get a response. No matter. It’s not as if anyone would answer with his old name. That belongs to his younger counterpart. The walls smother him, stifling his breathing as the Transmission goes back to searching for the young one. 

This is what it gets for allowing him so much freedom. It’ll learn from its mistakes to ensure the younger one won’t get so willful and cocky. But for now, it must find him again.

* * *

It tries a different method. It tries the boy’s name this time.

“Mono!” The boy flinches at the use of his name, the girl close behind him. She tugs at his hand, seeing the bright screen light up the dark room as he begins to curl over in pain. “It’s a free home - yours to claim and make your own! Fully intact with no signs of damage AND no adults around to wreak havoc! It’s already ready for you - you just need to come and claim it!”

“Shut up…” He tries to cover his ears, but it’s useless to do so. There’s only one way to end the message, after all. He shuffles towards the screen with a hand reaching out as if to stop the broadcast. The waves mingle with the boy’s power, amplifying the white noise into legible words that only the boy can hear. After all, the message is meant solely for the little Mono. 

“It’s a free home! With your name - Mono, yes that’s right! - on the deed!”

“What’s a _deed_...”

“It’s for your home! To show that you own it for good! And it’s free for the taking- your taking! Mono, you don’t need to search anymore when we’ve done the searching for you! Free. Housing. It makes us tremble with excitement! Could it get any better than this?”

“Shut up!” By now, the boy presses his palm against the screen and begins to tune the transmission. It nearly trills with excitement as it blares its message once more for him.

“It’s free real estate!”

“I don’t even know what that means!” He yells with frustration as the image straightens out. Luckily, the old battery can no longer interfere. The older man is fitted with his hat now, the outfit complete as he stares blankly ahead. It even took it upon itself to tune the old tool just right - his anger was amplified, need for revenge finely tuned to take priority over everything else, and a single memory is looped on repeat for him to focus on. No interference from him now.

The child breaks through the screen easily and runs towards the door unhindered. He reaches the doorknob and yanks the door open with a quick leap and heave and-

Ah, yes. The old tool is removed, moving forward of his own accord as the child screams and runs away. But there’s nothing any of those creatures can do now. The events are set in motion, as it always has been.

It’s only a matter of time.

The Signal Tower is empty once more as the hunt begins.

_It’s only a matter of time._

* * *

Maybe he should’ve expected this. Maybe he should’ve known that the voices from the Transmission weren’t lying to him as he sits on this lone chair, a room so empty that it reminds him of the aching void in his chest.

Maybe he should’ve known that he was doing exactly what the Signal Tower wanted him to do by tuning the Transmission like he did. At least now, he has access to all sorts of shows to ease his unfortunate boredom. All these shows meant that he knew what all sorts of big words meant.

A term he finally understood was “real estate”. It meant something like… land that someone owns with one or more buildings. He thinks.

But it makes sense now, doesn’t it? When the Transmission kept trying to tell him that it was giving him a new, free home. Apparently, adults used to have to spend “money” to “buy” new homes. The concept escapes him - he doesn’t actually know what a home is. But according to the shows he watches, it means a place that wants him. A place where he can stay safe and sleep in. 

A new, free home. He looks around the room he’s trapped in, stuck in the Signal Tower as it continues to control everything in the Pale City and the residents that live within the city.

Land with buildings.

The Transmission keeps him here, where it wants him. Where he can stay safe and sleep in.

A home.

He curls up on his single chair, the only thing that had kept him safe from the fleshy floors until there was no more flesh, and cries silently to himself. Maybe Six knew what was waiting for him and dropped him here so that he could stay safe? Because this was a place that wanted him?

Maybe that was it.

Maybe this was supposed to be a good thing.

(He didn’t like it one bit.)

New understanding has him burying his face against his knees.

“It’s free real estate,” he whispers.

**Author's Note:**

> please believe me when i say this was supposed to be funny i mean this was entirely based off a meme this was funny right?? haha yeah sorry


End file.
